


Unfamiliar Spirits

by jessebee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon character deaths, Dreams and Nightmares, Hanging canon by the neck until dizzy, M/M, Major character dead but not gone by any stretch, Millennium Falcon - Freeform, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 03:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15788154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: Luke Skywalker meets the "Wizard of the Wastes" a bit earlier.  This changes things.





	Unfamiliar Spirits

 

_… ending and beginning_

 

Double sunlight glittered hard, harsh and familiar, in the splinters of light that it cracked off of the two white stones.  Nothing more was left.

“I still can’t believe they’re really gone.”

“You did everything, and more, that you could have done, Luke.”  The arm around his shoulders was as much support as it was comfort.  “The fever nearly took you as well. That you made it so far, as close to my house as you did … ”

A shuddering exhale, absorbed into the desert air.  “I know that. But Aunt Beru had told me, years ago, that if ever things got – bad, really bad, to find you.  Never mind what Uncle Owen said, and that I shouldn’t tell him what she’d said, either. Just – get to Ben Kenobi: that you were the one to go to, if it all ever really and truly went to hell.”

A very soft sigh.  “Your aunt was one of the kindest, wisest beings I’ve known.  They loved you, both of them loved you very, very much, and your uncle wanted to protect you the best way he knew how.  I cannot and I never could, never have, blamed him for that, although the way he chose was not the way I would have preferred.”

“Why’d he hate you, Ben?”

“He didn’t, not in the way you’re thinking.  But he didn’t trust me.”

“Tell me why?”

The arm around his shoulders tightened.  “I will, yes, but not here. You’ve packed everything you wish to keep?”

“Yeah.  Biggs’ dad’s got the codes and the keys; ’s all his now.  I’m never coming back here.” His knees felt weak. “Let’s just go h –   B-back to your place. If – I can still stay with you, for a while. I don’t – I don’t know what I’m going to do, now.”

“Never doubt your welcome, son.  Right now, let’s get you where you can rest; the future will arrive soon enough.”

 

*

 

_Leaving Tatooine_

 

_One_

 

“What a piece of junk,” Luke Skywalker murmurs, looking up at the battered old freighter they have  bought, its mismatched plating glinting in Tatooine's fierce double-suns light. “Even with half of it being a blind.”

“More likely most of it.”  Ben Kenobi, Luke's much-older mentor and partner in said purchase, unfolds his arms.  “But if she's as fast as Chewbacca claims, or even nearly, we ought to do well. Time to get moving, in any case.”

“Think he's telling the truth?”  Because a Wookiee could lie, Luke is sure.  A lifetime of haggling has taught him that every being can lie, if it gets them something.

“About the ship’s speed?”

“About the ship’s owner.”  Luke resettles his carry-all on one shoulder as they walk toward the _Millennium_ _Falcon's_ ramp.  Everything he owns is in that bag, little enough to show for nineteen years of life on this stupid dustball planet.  

And now, two months after his aunt’s and uncle’s deaths, here he is – staring at his new life about to start, at this starship he’s now part-owner of.  “Former owner, I mean.”

“His friend the pilot?”  Ben pauses and looks at him.  “Still – 'being here,' as Chewbacca put it?”

“Is that even possible?”  

Because while the days are long-gone when Luke had figured that the Wizard of the Wastes knew “everything,” he’s quite keenly aware now, after two months in the man's company, that Ben (or Obi-Wan, as Luke isn’t supposed to call him) knows a helluva lot more than anybody else Luke has ever met.  Most of which knowledge would get them both arrested or worse, nevermind that Tatooine has never been an Empire-controlled world – the Empire certainly doesn’t care about such distinctions and the Hutts care even less – as long as it doesn’t cut into their profit margin.

Ben smiles; his real smile, the one that crinkles his eyes.  “When you've lived as long as I have, you discover that a great many impossible things are indeed possible.  A haunted starship would not be the strangest of them.”

“Well, he can hang around all he likes, long as he doesn't mess with anything,” Luke decides, stopping at the foot of the ramp to slap his hand against one of the hydraulic ramp-struts.  “It's our ship now, soon as we sneak Chewbacca back onto his homeworld.”

“Which we must accomplish in good time,” Ben says, moving past Luke and up into the Falcon's interior.  “We have business elsewhere.”

Right.  Luke squints up the ramp after him.  Alderaan. Where Ben's mysterious message, on the ancient comm Luke hadn't even known the man _had_ until the thing had chimed, had said they needed to go.

He runs his palm up and down the ramp-strut, noting its condition: not new by any stretch, but well-maintained despite age and wear.  Like Luke's own old speeder and his T16 – nothing to look at on the outside, but the insides? Oh, they’d both had it where it counted, Luke had made sure of that.  Luke grins and gives the strut another pat. “Pleased to meet you, _Falcon_.  I think we're gonna like each other.”

  


The hatch hasn’t been closed five minutes before the first sharp clang rings through the hull.  Luke’s afraid he knows that sound. “Who the hell’s shooting at us?!” he yelps as he skids into the cockpit and falls into the pilot’s chair.  

“Jabba, unless I miss my guess,” Ben says, over the sound of more shots fired and the changing pitch as the deflector shields come on.

<You do not,> Chewbacca growls, flipping switches as the _Falcon_ hums awake.   <Strap in, we are leaving.>

“The Hutt?  Why?” Luke tries to learn all the instruments at once as the _Falcon_ goes through the fastest preflight he’d ever seen.  Thank every little god that Ben had decided Luke needed to know Shyriiwook –

<My captain might have owed him money.>

“And you didn’t pay him, from what we paid you?” Ben asks sharply, from the seat behind Luke’s, and Luke twitches.  Ben knew about it?

<Paid him what we owed him, yes,> the Wookiee snaps.  <Paid him the bribe he wanted, no. Lifting off.>

Luke braces automatically as the _Falcon_ rises, the grinding rumble of landing struts and maneuvering thrusters abruptly lost beneath the sudden roar as her sublight engines fire.  The freighter surges into the sky, straight up and then jigging sharply to the side to avoid the other ship that flares up from seemingly nowhere, guns blazing.  Luke flinches away before he can stop himself.

A red tell-tale winks on the panel just to Luke’s right, and Chewbacca snarls out something impossible in Shyriiwook.  <Rear mid deflector shield is gone again! And I told him – Han Solo, were you not dead already – >

Oh, that does _not_ sound good –

<Thinks his bounty hunters will catch us, does he?  Fly us, cub, while I prepare for hyperspace,> Chewbacca barks, and suddenly the stick is Luke’s.  

He grabs and twists without thought, going on that pure instinct he’s always flown with, that “something” that Ben calls the Force, and the next second he grins like he’ll hurt himself.

For all that she looks like the worst side of a bantha with terminal mange, the _Falcon’s_ response is purely _amazing_.  She flies like her namesake, twists and dodges and soars like she’s part of Luke, hardwired into his own nerves, and he can’t help the little whoop of joy as they charge together for open space.  That “feeling” of the Force floods through him, as strong as he’s yet felt –

<Coordinates in,> Chewbacca woofs.  <Going to lightspeed – > an enormous hairy hand reaches for the controls as the sound of a hyperdrive winding up fills the cockpit < – now.>

A _twist_ and a _push_ and the stars stretch into ribbons of brilliance as the _Falcon_ vaults into hyperspace, light as a dancer, and Luke can’t help literally twitching in his seat.  Oh, he is in _love_ , and her name is  _Millennium Falcon_.

  


*

 

_Two_

 

Ben goes to lie down, he says, – “I'm getting too old for this sort of thing, Luke,” – which Luke doesn’t  believe for a hot moment, and Chewbacca steps out of the cockpit and off to check the condition of that rear deflector and see if it could be fixed from inside.  Which leaves Luke alone in the cockpit for the first time.

Not much to do while in hyperspace, of course, other than watch instruments which really don’t need watching right there every minute.  And watch the hyperlights, which are frankly amazing and kind of mesmerizing and of course, so, _now_ is the moment it happens.

“Great.”

Luke freezes.

“This is just great.  Thanks, Chewie.”

The voice is deep and distinct and sexy as hell, and Luke knows for a fact that he's never heard it before.

“I'm so just barely dead I ain't hardly cold yet, and you already got my baby sold off to a walking fossil and a kid still wet behind the damn ears – ”

It's also sarcastic, and angry –

“ – who thinks he's a pilot, yet.  Thanks a kriffin' bunch, Chewie, I _knew_ I could count on you.”

– and insulting.  Luke straightens slowly, sets his jaw, and turns his head.

What's lounging in the copilot's chair and staring at Luke is the lean figure of a man.  Over-long, brownish hair atop a hard face, with a scarred chin and a long nose that might have been broken at some point.  Pale shirt beneath a black vest, a set of gloves tucked in one chest pocket. Dark trousers with some sort of stripe up the outside.  The curve of a weapons belt, riding low on trim hips.

Tall, dark, and unarguably good-looking: exactly Luke's type.  However there are _also_ the unarguable facts that he's slightly transparent, a bit blue, and glowy around the edges.

Luke takes a steadying breath.  “I'll have you know,” he says, in the driest tone he can find, “that I am a damn good pilot, thank you very much.”

The man – and Luke's just going to go with “man” for the moment – sits bolt upright.  “Wait. You can hear me? You can SEE me?”

Luke's eyebrows shoot up.  “Well, I _answered_ you, didn't I?”

The man flat-out stares at Luke for some moments before his eyes, which might be a kind of gray color, close as he slumps back in the seat and swears, an expression of intense relief settling on his face.  “I really was thinking that I was – ” He blows out a long breath. “Well. I don't actually know what I thought. But if you can _see_ me – ”

He sits upright again and turns to Luke.  “Then I'm really – still _here_.  Somehow,” he says.  His eyes are wide and then they narrow, questioning, the man obviously thinking hard, and it changes the whole cast of his face.  “Who are you, anyway?”

Luke blinks.  “Luke Skywalker.  And I'd shake your hand, but – ”  He kind of shrugs, thinks about wincing but decides against it because this is already so far out of normal reality that, well, what the actual hell?  “And you are?”

The man's lips part, then his face creases into a wide, crooked smile that's ridiculously appealing.  “Han Solo. Captain of the _Millennium_ _Falcon_.”

“Former captain,” Luke absolutely cannot help saying.

The man's – Han Solo's – eyes narrow again.  “ _Captain_.  Still here, ain't I?”

Luke opens his mouth because there's no way he can let that one go by, when the cockpit door slides open.

“Luke?” Ben says.  “I thought I heard – ”  

And stops, staring at Han Solo, whose blue-tinged self has turned to face him.  

“Ah, Ben?” Luke says, because really, what the kriff else is there to do?  “Uhm, meet – ”

“Captain Han Solo, I presume?” Ben says it lightly but there's other stuff going on behind his eyes, Luke's pretty sure.

“ _Thank_ you.  See?” Han says, pointing a long glowy finger at Luke.  “Captain.”

“We are the _Falcon's_ new owners, young Luke here and myself,” Ben goes on, apparently unperturbed, and Han's jaw sets in a way that tells Luke he's grinding ghostly teeth.  “This is a fine ship, beneath her somewhat – mismatched exterior. We shall take good care of her.”

  


*

 

_Three_

 

It’s their second day of space travel and the third hyperspace jump leg, and Luke is practicing _katas_ in the _Falcon's_ passenger lounge.  

Ben had only recently let him start using his lightsaber to practice, just before they’d gotten the message from the mysterious “old friend.”  Luke is getting used to the weight and feel of the weapon, and the ‘saber's hum echoes a little inside the ship.

He reaches for connection with the Force, opens as best he can and lets it smooth his movements, striving to get his arms and twist his body where it should be, following the patterns Ben has been teaching him.  And it's easier, it's been getting easier and the meditations have been helping, much as they aren't Luke's favorite activity by any measure, but something out here feels – different.

He flows to a stop with the ‘saber at guard and feet just so and balances, and _feels_.  Yeah.  Different.

Luke opens his eyes and turns to Ben, seated off to one side.  “Ben? It's – ”

“What in hells are you doin’, kid?”  

Han's just there, abruptly, in the technical station seat, long legs kicked out in front of him.  It’s not the first time he’s just kinda popped into being, and Luke's going to have to get used to Han just appearing like that or figure out the reason why not.  That the man – ghost, Force-ghost, whatever he is – is also stupidly attractive, does not in any way help Luke’s dilemma.

Chewbacca, seated in the curved acceleration couch by the _dejarik_ table, is obviously used to these sudden eruptions of glowy presence, and woofs something that Luke can't quite completely translate.

“Yeah, I _know_ he's swingin' a lightsaber, Chewie, I can see _that_ .  What I don't see is _why_.”

Luke sees Ben lift an eyebrow and tilt his head, which means “your turn.”

Great.  Luke powers off the 'saber and sets his shoulders.  “'Why' would be because I'm learning the ways of the Force.”

Han's eyes go wide and then narrow.  “The Force. You're not serious.” His gaze darts to Ben, and then back to Luke.  “You _are_ serious.  You think you're gonna _fight_ with that thing?”

“The Jedi fought with them for – ”

“The _Jedi_ ,” Han snaps, “are _dead_.  Outlawed and dead and long-gone, and their hokey weapons and ancient religion didn't do them or anybody else a godsbedamn bit of good, did they?”

Luke stares at him, struck, because beneath the blustery anger in Han's voice is something else.

“The Jedi may be few now,” Ben says mildly, “but the Force is with us, everywhere and always.”

“The Force.”  Han's mouth twists.  “An all-powerful energy field, controlling everything.  Right. I ain't never seen anything to make me believe that.”

“Have you not?”  Ben looks over at Han then, and oh, Luke knows that look.  “And how exactly do you think it is that you are speaking to us now, Captain?”

Han's eyes go wide again, and there's an audible catch of breath that he can't possibly need.  A spike of emotion pricks at Luke through the Force – pain, sadness maybe – and Han vanishes.

Luke stares at the empty chair for a few moments before he looks at Ben, and that's definitely sadness he sees on his mentor's face before Ben shakes his head.  “You'd better get on with your exercises,” he says softly. “I think we shall try out that training drone now.”

  


*

 

_Four_

 

They aren't quite halfway to Kashyyyk, Chewbacca’s home planet, when it happens.

The vision yanks Luke bolt upright in the dead of ship's night, sweating and shaking, with a sound like a million million terrified beings screaming all at once echoing through his head.  He can't even remember where he is at first, and then the confines of the cabin emerge from the small glows of ready-lights – his bunk on board the _Millennium_ _Falcon_.  

Luke blows out a hard breath and curls in on himself, and buries his face in his hands.  The cabin's silence is oppressive, and his heartbeat thunders in his neck and fingertips, throbbing against his skin.  It's all he can do to breathe, panting, sourness reflected back from his palms. Reaction sets in next, the shakes going to shivers, quick and hard.

“Here,” Han says, soft and low out of the darkness.  “There's blankets under the bunk; drawer's open.”

Thoughtlessly Luke puts a hand down over the side and gets a grip on something soft, and drags it up onto the bed and around himself.  Not an e-blanket but there must be something reflective in it, as it's only half a minute before his own body heat comes back on him and the warmth is wonderful.

“Nightmare?” Han asks.

“Sweet karking gods, I hope so,” Luke mutters.  He's got a horrible feeling that it isn't. He pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes and wonders vaguely how long it'll be before he stops shivering.  

“You _hope_ so?  Yeah, I hear that.”

Luke sighs and uncurls himself enough to raise his head.  

Han is glowing softly blue on the bunk by Luke's feet, sitting on the mattress but making no dent in it.  

Luke would like to be annoyed at Han for just dropping in like he still owns the place, but instead wishes, suddenly and achingly, that the man was really _there_ , solid and touchable.  And not because Luke wants to either punch him or fuck him, and that’s new too.

There's what looks like concern on the long face.  “You wanna talk?” Han asks.

What the hells is there to say?  That Luke's mind dished him up something out of a holo-horror?  “Have you ever heard … ?”

“What?”

Luke takes an unsteady breath and tries again.  “You ever heard rumors – y'know, solid rumors and not just people talking – about a, a weapon that could destroy a whole planet?”

Han's lips part and he sits back a little, and Luke's heart sinks because what he'd wanted, he realizes, is for the captain to scoff at the very idea.  But he's not.

“There've been rumors, yeah,” Han says slowly, with what looks like reluctance.  “About the Imps building a space station the size of a small moon, with firepower to match.  Takes supplies to build something like that, and word gets out eventually whether they want it to or not.”

Luke squeezes his eyes shut.

“That what you dreamed?”

“In three dimensions, color and sound.”  Luke pulls a breath that still shakes more than he wants it to.  “Can tell you what the planet looked like, hells, what it smelled like.”  Another shiver runs him. “I’ve had realistic dreams but never one like that.”

Han is silent but still Luke has that “sense” of him that’s becoming less weird and more comforting, and that’s kinda disturbing.  “What did it look like?” Han asks, finally.

“Blue, and green,” Luke says, keeping his eyes shut.  “And white. All those colors you don’t see on Tatooine.  White mountains, all over, everywhere – the white was snow, I guess – and green in the valleys, here and there.  And water, _lots_ of it.  Just – there.”  He snorts, and lets his eyes open.  “Like places I’ve always seen in the holos, and wondered sometimes if any worlds were really like that.  And it smelled – cool, I guess. What I imagine cool and green might smell like together, you know? Cool and sharp and kinda like stone, though, too; but not sandstone, something – something harder … ”

The blue edge that is Han shifts, drawing Luke’s gaze.  “That’s what I saw,” Luke says, shrugging. He can almost do that without shivering now.

“And then what?”

There’s the shivers again, right on cue.

“It – ”  Luke swallows, suddenly shorter of breath.  “The sky was beautiful, half-full of white clouds, I’ve never seen so many clouds all at once.  But in a clear bit you could see this shape, like a moon, gray and small. Until it wasn’t gray anymore, it was green, laser-green.  And that green got bigger and bigger until – ” He cuts himself off and swallows again, hard. “And then I was in space, watching the station fire, and the planet – ”  He has to swallow a third time before the words will come. “Blew up.”

Han stares at him.

“That planet,” he says slowly, after a minute, “could be any one of a thousand, really.  But it sounds a whole kriffing lot like Alderaan.”

Alderaan.  Where Ben and Luke are headed, the whole point of this trip.  To meet the people Ben said he’d known in another lifetime, people who’d asked for Ben’s help.  People involved, if Luke’s read between the right lines, in the –

– in the Rebel Alliance.  Cold shoots up Luke’s spine.

“I think you oughta tell your – Ben, about your dream,” Han says.

“You mean, like you think it’s a vision?  Prescience?” Luke blinks. “You don't believe in that kinda thing.”

Han’s mouth compresses.  “Kid, _I’m_ the kinda thing I don’t believe in.”

There is that.

~

Ben listens without comment until Luke stumbles to a halt; then he leans back into the weathered padding of the dejarik table seating, one hand coming up to stroke across his beard.  Luke divides his gaze between the hot cup of kaffin between his hands and Ben’s weathered, familiar face, wreathed in white hair and beard. His teacher’s hair had been a sandy-copper-red color once, the man had said, although Luke can’t quite imagine that.

His teacher’s fingers pick and rub at pale strands now, a motion that Luke’s become very familiar with, that might mean twenty different things.  “It wasn’t just a nightmare, Ben; it was way too real for that.”

“A nightmare?  Certainly it was, but of the warning kind,” Ben says, and makes another indistinct sound somewhere deeper in his throat.  “That you see this now, as we are on our way … ” A quiet breath, and another few twists of the beard. “It’s a good thing that we are not so far along yet; I think that Chewbacca will be amenable to changing course for Alderaan directly.”

Why Ben thinks that, he doesn’t say.

“So you believe me?”

That brings Ben’s eyes back to Luke’s.  “Believe you? Of course. Do I believe you’ve had a vision of the future?  Not necessarily. Do I believe that you’ve seen a warning of some sort, in the Force?  Yes, that I most definitely do.”

Luke swallows.

“There was a time,” Ben goes on, his voice going soft and his gaze distancing in the way Luke has learned means his teacher is seeing far into the past, “long ago, when I might have told you that dreams pass in time, as my own master told me.  But I like to think that I have learned, perhaps, a thing or two between then and now.”

“What are we going to do?”

Ben’s gaze comes back to Luke’s again, and the softness has completely vanished.  Their blue color is light – probably faded, like everything on Tatooine – and depthless, like Luke imagines an ocean might be.  “Everything that we can, young Luke,” Ben says, his diction gone crisp and more Core-posh sounding than usual. “Everything that we can, with the help of the Force.”

~

Chewbacca does not mind the change of course, as it turns out.  <He is dead; more time makes little difference,> the Wookiee growls, somewhat cryptically.  <To Alderaan then, although I will be noticeable there.>

“Perhaps not as much as that,” Ben says.  “Much has changed since the Republic fell, but not this.  As long as Queen Breha and the Viceroy Bail Organa guide her, Alderaan will be a good place to hide in plain sight.”

 

*

 

_Alderaan_

 

_Five_

 

The moment they drop out of hyperspace and swing around, Luke knows he was right.

Alderaan is a flatpic-like jewel on the horizon, a hundred shades of sapphire and emerald swathed in white – the perfect image of his dream.  It’s beautiful.

“That it is,” Ben says, and Luke blinks; he hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud.  “Alderaan is a high, cool world of mountains and snows and green valleys between them.  Its people value beauty and culture above all; much that has been – discarded, elsewhere, remains on Alderaan, guarded by her peace.”

Luke nods.  And then pauses, because –   “Guarded by her what?”

“Peace,” Han says, a distinct snort in the word.  Luke doesn’t twitch this time; he’s learned that the little – flick, sort-of, that he feels in the Force, precedes Han’s appearance by about a second.  “Alderaan ain’t got no weapons, so the story goes. Or nothing they can get ahold of, anyway.”

“No weapons?”  Luke shot a glance over his shoulder at Han, softly blue in the seat behind Chewbacca.  “That story’s true?”

“It is,” Ben says from just behind him.  “After the Clone Wars, the system High Council ordered all of her weapons, planetary and space-going, dismantled, and stored aboard one of her armory warships, which was renamed the _Second Chance._  The ship was then put on autopilot and sent into hyperspace on a series of repeated jumps, forever to remain, unless and until called home by the High Council.”  Ben’s voice is grave and even. “After the horrors of the war and the rising of the Empire, it was decided that the best way to preserve Alderaan from Imperial ‘interference,’ was to present no visible threat to its domination.  It has proved an admirable strategy.”

<Visible,> Chewbacca rumbles, and Han snorts again.

“You disagree, Captain?” Ben asks mildly.

“That it was a good strategy?  Not at all,” Han says. “’s worked like a charm for ‘em, for a good long while.  Lately? Not so much.”

“Explain, please.”

“Well, you can only do so nose-tweakin’ before the owner of the nose gets irritable.  Their Viceroy made a career outta talking the Senate in circles and his kid, the Princess, picked up the stick.  But word is, his Imperial Horribleness and his pet enforcer are out of patience. They been looking for proof for years so’s they could stomp on Alderaan with Vader’s big black boots.  My bet is, they’ve decided they don’t _need_ proof, anymore.”

“Proof of what?” Luke asks, darting another backward glance long enough to catch sight of Han’s crooked grin.

“Arms, kid.  Weapons.” Han snaps off the last ‘s’ with apparent relish.  “Reason Alderaan ain’t got any is because they’ve been giving ‘em all to the Rebellion, so the story goes.  No proof of anything; nothing the Imps can pin on them,” Han’s voice held a touch of admiration, “and doesn’t _that_ just kark them off.  But – ”

An electronic trill interrupts.

“We’re being hailed,” Luke says.  “Ben?”

“That would be my cue, yes.”  Ben leans forward and plays a sequence of keys on the communication panel almost too quickly for Luke to follow.  A few moments, then another series of beeps and whistles, and again Ben answers.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, old man,” Han mutters.

“If I do not, we’ll be notified of that very shortly,” Ben says, dry as dust, and Luke smothers his snicker.  Not successfully, judging from the look Chewbacca throws him.

The air in the cockpit is thick with anticipation, or something, only the sounds of their breathing along with the faint purr of equipment –

“We’ve got clearance,” Luke breathes, watching the Aurebesh characters abruptly streaming across the comm panel screen.  “And coordinates, and – ” He squints at the panel. “I – don’t know what that is,” he says, because suddenly those words don’t look like actual words in Basic.

“I do,” Ben says.  There’s a rustle of clothing and leather, and then Ben leans forward, his arm outstretched between the seats, and laying flat in his palm is the ancient comm unit.  “I do indeed,” he says, with a distinct smile in his voice, and before Luke can form the question, the air above the comm lights up with a shimmering blue-white holo, in the shape of the head and shoulders of a man.

He’s dark-haired and strong-featured, with a neat mustache and beard, and – judging from the way his jaw drops – startled at what he’s seeing.

Ben smiles that easy, sideways smile of his.  “Well, hello there.”

And just like that, the unknown man’s face relaxes into an answering smile.  “By the gods. It _is_ you.”

“Bit of a shock, I take it?” Ben replies, sounding almost merry.  “People do change, you know; some of us rather more than others. You, on the other hand, look much the same.”

“Only because this is over a holo,” the man says, with a snort that’s obviously laughter.  “Just wait. You’ve got the coordinates?”

“We do.”

The man nods.  “I’ll meet you and your party?” – Ben nods – “your party, when you land.”  And the holo winks out.

“Take us in, Luke,” Ben says into the sudden quiet.  “We’ve a meeting to make.”

Luke touches the controls and the _Falcon_ responds like she’s part of him, curving her wings for the plunge toward more blue, green, and white than Luke’s ever seen in his life.  “So who's – ”

“You run in interesting circles, old man,” Han interrupts.  “That’s the kriffin’ _Viceroy_ , ain’t it?  Bail Organa?”

“You know the Viceroy of Alderaan?” Luke asks, but really he’s not too surprised.  He’d always been sure, somehow, that somewhere in the past Obi-Wan Kenobi had been – and still was – a great and important man.

“That was, and I do,” Ben says, as matter-of-factly as if he rubbed elbows with leaders and royalty all day, every day, and Luke grins broadly as the _Falcon_ dives for the planet below.

 

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> A work in progress (GASP), but I thought I'd share it with y'all for the SkySolo Fest. Many thanks to culturevulture and sanerontheinside, for everything :-)


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